When you plant a pot of joy
It’s not sophisticated,
Nor filled with such unusual stuff
it grows too complicated.
In fact, it’s more what is left out:
All angst and consternation,
The kind of things you hear about
In troubling conversation.
No, when you plant a pot of joy
It overflows with colour;
It’s filled with smiles and kindly words
and pleases like no other.
No matter what you plant it in,
On sill or stony mound
A pot of joy puts out strong roots
and spreads the joy around.
aplaceforpoetry 
I surely do miss my garden, especially as this time of year
I have a flowerbed full of colour – love it!
Have you come across community gardens? A fun idea.
My increasing physical infirmity makes it difficult. Getting old sucks.